


take all the courage you have left

by doubtthestars



Series: only when i sleep (see you in my dreams) [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dream Sharing, Hopeful Ending, M/M, another manifesto of sad idiots in love, controlling dad issues, vomiting mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4064860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubtthestars/pseuds/doubtthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything is happy until it isn't. They are soulmates that can't be together, doesn't mean they won't try. </p><p>Mats and Neven through the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take all the courage you have left

**Author's Note:**

> literally just slap me.

2013

"The room is too quiet." He looks at Jonas with sunken eyes, hair unkempt and stubble from days of not caring. Mats couldn't sleep, didn't sleep but Jonas had taken away everything that could distract him and keep him awake. Three days had passed and there was a fine tremor that ran through his older brother every few seconds. His eyelashes would flutter and he'd get paler like he was finally realizing what had happened. 

Jonas wanted to bring all those suits into the room, to show them what they were doing, what they made of their player. _Their players_ he corrects himself mentally. Neven had to be out there somewhere with Klopp and his sister or his parents. Neven, ironically had more people at his side than Mats did at the moment. His stomach lurched at the thought.

"Are you hungry?" The doctors had said establishing an eating schedule was important. It would help Mats' body to know when to sleep and when to start the day, but they weren't having any luck with keeping the food down after taking the suppressants. Jonas thought he might have been exaggerating his gag reflex, but he had flown in after Mats got too dehydrated to play. 

_"I hate them. I can't do this. I can't do this, Jonas, it's gonna kill me." Mats' hands grip the toilet seat. His eyes filled with tears. Jonas crouched down next to him, a hand tentatively on his back._

_"You have to, Mats." He swayed. Jonas was afraid he'd try to throw up again. There was nothing but bile in his stomach by now. Mats started crying, heavy sobs Jonas hadn't heard since their parents had split up, since they found out why. He couldn't help this one. He didn't know how to share this pain. Jonas wasn't the right person to share it with, he brought Mats closer, letting him get snot and tears on his jacket._

_"I'm sorry." He whispers thickly over his brother's cries._

"No," Mats replies dully, not moving from his prone position on the bed. He hated it. Jonas couldn't stand seeing him in this shitty hotel room like a prisoner, lifeless. He curses everyone and everything he can think of again. This _was_ killing Mats, unbearably slowly and he couldn't even do it in the comfort of his home.

"Do you want to go back to the apartment?" Jonas doesn't know whose to call it. It was under Mats' name but it had been his since Mats moved in with Neven. 

"No," there's a hitch, a pain to the refusal this time. He turns over to his side, curled up like a wounded animal. Jonas doesn't think back on visiting their house, instinctively knowing it was the wrong side for Mats. He lies down next to his brother, flat on his back, feeling like he is taking up too much space and yet Mats is legions away where he can't reach him. 

"Please, Mats, please try." He pleads, closing his eyes against the burn.

"I--" He takes a shuddering gasp, like he cannot breathe in the air, like it was too shallow and he was drowning, "-want him back." His voice breaks into a whisper. Jonas curls his fingers into a fist.

2012

"Happy Birthday," The kiss on his nape is sweet, but Mats is blearily trying to focus on the alarm clock's glowing face. 

"It's 4:15 in the morning, Neven, why on Earth are we awake?" He groans, trying to recapture the warm embrace of sleep. It wouldn't work, not with Neven still up and apparently determined to celebrate his birthday at an ungodly hour. 

"Well, it's true to your birth and since everyone is coming over later. I wanted to spend some time with just us." Neven explains. Mats is still trying to suffocate himself with a pillow, turning around to finally face his soulmate. His face is barely illuminated by the clock, hollows more dark and Mats frowns at the picture.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but we spend most of our time together. We could spend this time sleeping together actually." He yawns as if to make his point. Neven doesn't budge.

"I remembered something." Mats feels funny, his heart picking up speed at the hushed tone he used. "My grandmother," a flash of wrinkled hands and the smell of herbs and cinnamon like a strong tea preoccupied Mats. "She was obsessed with twenty-three. My mother would say it's the only way she could remember the date of her birthday, it just became an important number in her mind even with the forgetting. She wasn't good at keeping track of the days, but when December 23rd came around she would make me sit and ask me how old I was and tell me a story with the number, but when I was nine, she was sick. She kept asking for my dad and saying be careful, be careful." Mats felt a shiver go up his spine.

"Be careful of the longer shadows when it turns twenty-three. We always assumed she meant the day, the equinox, when the days started to get longer. But I don't know. We're both twenty-three now and I couldn't help but think about it." He laces their fingers together, brushes his lips against Mats' knuckles.

"We've had a lot of sun in our lives." 

"And we've had shadows, doesn't mean they'll get longer or bigger because we happen to be twenty-three. We worn born six days apart in the twelfth month of the year in 1988. It's all just numbers, Neven. Your grandmother couldn't look into the future and we can't either, but if we tell ourselves that something terrible will happen, then we'll inevitably look for that. It's my birthday, we're in our house, in a city we play for together, we're still in good shape for the league and the cup and we have each other." Mats tucks in closer to Neven.

"Can we go to sleep now?" His breath hits his neck, tickles. Neven closes his eyes, suddenly realizing how heavy his eyelids were. 

"I love you." He exhales, a natural statement, something they said daily to each other, but it rang louder in the small hours of the night. It was reassuring to hear.

"Love you too." Mats mumbled, already half-way to dreaming. 

2009

"Excuse me, we were just wondering..." The girl looks down bashfully and Mats hopes it is not a fan. They were careful to hide any distinguishing features as they came into the movie theatre. He had only just took off his cap when the two teenagers approached them cautiously. Neven nervously touched the rim of his fake glasses, ready to take evasive maneuvers to get away from them.

"She just wanted to know how long you've been together. We were sitting a little ways away, but you're obviously a couple and we never see any other...couples like us here." Mats had chosen the movie theatre because it was small, but hadn't thought about something like this happening.

"Oh, two years." "Twenty," Neven's curt reply overlaps Mats. They look at each other before Mats smiles kindly at the shyer girl. 

"Two years going on twenty sometimes. We've known each other for a long, long time. But officially got together two years ago." He cuts a teasing glare to Neven. They couldn't look much older than twenty, an answer like that would give them away, and in a small town like this who knew what it would lead to. 

"Childhood friends then?" The girl says in a sort of wistful tone. She must be a romantic. Neven nods.

"Something like that." The shorter girl grabs the romantic's hand to pull her away. 

"There, you happy now Grace, sorry for bothering you." She bows her head a little after her apology and keeps tugging at the other girl to follow her up the steps. Mats ends up looking back at them throughout the previews, watching as they got more comfortable and settled into their seats. 

He leans his head on Neven's shoulder as the movie starts. Neven's hand is brushing up and down his upper arm in a sort of idle massage. 

"Those glasses look good on you." Neven tilts his head down to hear him better. His uneasy face smooths out into something softer as his eyes dart from the screen to look at Mats.

"No, they don't. You've always looked better with glasses than I have." Mats chuckles low in his throat.

"You're right, but they do make you look different, doesn't look like you under there, Clark Kent." Neven smiles, fondness stealing away any sort of worry. Superman had been his favorite comic book hero growing up and he had never looked much like the superhero but he had to admit maybe glasses were a good disguise sometimes. 

"Are you Lois Lane then?" 

"I did want to study journalism once upon a time." Mats shrugs. "Though, I guess it would be more appropriate to say Louis Lane, do I look like a Louis?" The movie was fading into background noise. 

"No, you don't. You just look like Mats to me."

2010

"I can't believe Americans have to wait this long to get legally drunk. It should be, should be illegal." Mats giggles at his own joke. Neven's parents had insisted on them staying over at the resort with them but Neven and Natalija protested until Mats decided to book a hotel so the rest of the family could still stay put and they wouldn't have to share space with anybody, but could partake of the holiday season with them close by. 

"You're so drunk." Neven sat down on the couch with a 'whoomp', not gauging how low the cushions were. Mats pulled his belt off with one clean move.

"Not drunk enough to mess that up!" He jumps onto the other man, straddles him with jean-clad legs. "Is my Christmas present gonna be the same as my birthday present?" He tries to pout seductively but ends up getting distracted and attempts to cross his eyes in his state of inebriation. Neven lifts him up off his lap to get his pants down and off.

"Nev-en, why are you still dressed?" Mats pulls at the button of the Serbian's jeans with eager fingers. He manages to undo them and slip his hand inside his briefs, hot skin already at attention.

"Mats, we're not having sex on the pull-out couch when the bed is two meters away." Mats grunts.

"You're so bossy. We're not, I'm not, I'm just saying hello, and now, mmm, I'm going to bed." He got up, faster than Neven could catch him and didn't bother to unbutton his shirt before shucking it off onto the floor. Neven followed suit, slowly, much too slow for Mats.

"Layers are evil, Neven." 

"and necessary when we're taking a vacation to the Rockies in the middle of winter. When we get back to Florida, you can tell me layers are stupid." He finally laid down next to Mats, who rolled until he was on top of him like an overly warm and muscle-y blanket that actually felt comfortable in the chill on the room. Mats braced himself on his arms.

"Hi," he grinned with teeth showing. 

"Hey," Neven followed Mats' lead in conversation, but placed his hands on the German's hips to keep his focus.

"I wanna dream tonight." He says into his neck. Neven tries not to laugh.

"About?" Their hips roll into each other and Mats doesn't answer beyond a needy moan. The friction of their cloth-covered erections builds up to frantic rutting, touching the rest of their bodies beyond that point. Mats' hand curls around his bicep, sweat gathering at different points of his skin. 

"Us," trails the word off like a snake. Neven forgets the question, forgets why they were talking. He hooks a leg around him and turns, shifts to get Mats underneath him, pins his arms above his head by wrists. 

"I don't. I have everything I want here." Mats wiggles, rocks into their tangled legs almost wants to break free to cup him in his hand, to get rid of the last barrier, but he's too far gone, chasing the spark up his spine starting low.

Neven does touch, does reach and Mats comes, warm and wet in his hand and underwear. He helps him slide off the cloth, the same measured way he took off his pants. They're close enough to feel each other's heart beat in tandem. Neven pulls him in, an arm around his waist, the covers keeping them warm and enclosed in a space just their own. Mats doesn't regret getting the hotel.

"I love you." It's still a thrill to say it out loud, in the open with no one the wiser of their status. _Soulmates_ grips his heart in a vice of joy, stutters the beat when Neven says it back. 

They dream about the field, kicking a ball to each other, keeping time with a solid smack of the ball hitting their bodies. It's quiet.

1999

They made a game of it. It was the best part of his day to go to bed and dream in Neven's perspective. He wanted to live inside his skin sometimes. Bury whatever made him Mats in whatever made Neven _neven_ and never let go. 

Jonas and his mom never understood. His father outright ignored it. 

He wished he were big enough to go out on his own, to find the piece of earth that Neven knew as home. It was too far away now. 

2013

"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?" He shouts, lashing out, not giving a fuck about the audience of men in the room with him. Klopp looks old, the years catching up with his serious, serious face. He was the best thing, best person Mats had to a father because no one else could compare, especially not the conniving man in front of him.

A lump in his throat starts making it hard to breath, to get the words out that had been buried for years in the quiet graveyard of old wounds 

"I'm your father and your legal representation in this matter." He says stiffly, without a damn care for his son falling apart and making a spectacle. That's all his life has been to him. Mats, the giant clown of a boy, always messing his act up. It didn't matter to him when and where it happened because it always happened without fail.

"I'm not taking them. We can't." He shakes his head. His stomach revolts at the thought of killing their connection, of losing Neven.

"It will be a regimen of half doses until you can safely take the full dose. You're still young, your body will adjust and you will play better."

He breaks, a cold fury sweeps through him. Neven stands up from his seat, looking calmer but as deadly as Mats felt. The insult was clear, and in front of a member of the football association. It wouldn't do to make them think they weren't up to par, that there was some way to be _better_ without their bond. 

"Our playing has never been compromised by our bond, sir." Klopp shuffles some papers before vouching to the validity of that statement.

"They work better together than apart. I thought that's why we agreed on the contract, on signing them both when I took over as coach. I stand by their decision. We don't know the long-term effects of the suppressants on a case like this."

"The champions league." The words hit like an anvil, like a death knell in the distance. Mats' stomach cramped, seized with preemptive dread. Neven locked eyes with him, knowing it was his fault even if the tribunal wasn't out for his blood. If he had done things differently...

"You're using us as a scapegoat for things we can't-" Neven starts, backtracks.

"Control?" Mats' father finished the sentence. 

"No, no, it's not like that. Things like Robben's left foot or the grass being slippery or Roman being centimeters away from blocking a shot. Those are things we can't control. Our bond," His voice loses steam, he swallows down rocks. His father didn't understand. 

"Our bond is controlled." Neven finishes for him, wanting to reach out to take his hand, to do something other than be leveled with accusations he couldn't do anything about. Mats' father had come to the board, not to accuse him but damn his son's case.

Hermann slid files to the executives. 

"Their brain activity has become so in sync, the medical staff have called it a miracle they aren't calling themselves by each other's names." 

Mats pales. Neven shakes his head. No, he didn't care what the report said. They had it under control. They knew who they were. The only thing Mats had confused was their families and Neven knew where that desperate longing came from, with the cause right in front of him.

"That's not right. We're not going to suddenly forget ourselves. The only documented cases of a severe mental break occurring is if there's a predisposition, one of them already having trauma, some sort of illness." Neven had enough. He wasnt the only one who could talk the talk. Neven had been brought up informed, in the states, with parents who didn't want to break their children and control them.

"Funny you should mention that, Mr. Subotic." Mats' father pulled out another file from his briefcase. It looked older and thicker than the medical reports. Mats sat down, caving to the weight of knowing they had been defeated. His ears were whining, soundless as his father used the last weapon he had. There wasn't any way they would walk away from this.

Klopp looked at him with ancient eyes under his glasses but Neven, _neven_ looked like a ghost, heartbroken and bleeding out, color leaving him. He closes his eyes.

2006

"I'm not taking them." He tells Jonas in the middle of the night. The room was quiet. Both of them tucked into bed. It's a few days after his sixteenth birthday. Jonas coughs, possibly in shock, maybe he just inhaled wrong. Mats was determined. The dreams were getting more involved. 

He flushed. 

They were more complicated, less in the point of view of one or the other, but actually sharing with both of them present. They weren't lucid, just together in whatever scenario their mind conjured. More often than not, it was Neven and Mats sharing innocent, daily life things like going to the park or being in a car on the way to some unknown destination, but then there were _the dreams_.

The dreams that felt like a blink of an eye and longing and heat. The nights went by too fast with those dreams. 

"Signed your first contract and now you feel like you can do anything." Jonas isn't reproaching, but there is a bit of a warning in the tone. Mats didn't know any other fourteen year old as mature as Jonas and sometimes, when he allowed himself to think about it too much, he felt saddened by it. 

"It is _Bayern_. You think I'll get a yacht for my 18th birthday?" He jokes. The contract was only the first step. Hermann would take him seriously now, give him some leeway as he settled in the junior team. Mats wanted to go the US, wanted to spend time in the world of the living with Neven. It was an unmitigated ache, having been apart for so long but still so close. He wanted to see the mountains and the manatees and everything that Neven called home. 

"If you last that long, maybe they'll give you a medal." Jonas' bed rustles with movement to cover his snort.

"It's called an extension, dummy." Mats doesn't know what'll happen but he does have a plan and all of it leads to getting to Neven, of being with him no matter what.

He settled down to sleep with his fingers tingling.

2007

May 19th, Mats felt the excitement of finally playing a game for the first team. Being on the bench the last couple of matches of the season had been equal anticipation and let down as he wasn't utilized, but there was promise in the air and Martin was sure he would be taken off in the second half if all was well. His injury was still a nuisance and the coaches knew Mats was ready to play. 

But the best part was Neven. Neven was here and starting in the match and his father wasn't, so Mats could sneak away for a moment before the buses left. 

After three goals, almost back to back and the half-time recess where he didn't have much of a chance to talk with Neven, but shot him a smile as they passed one another. Klopp caught his eye before they left the tunnel but didn't do anything else to indicate he knew anything about them. 

Just a few minutes into the second half, Mats was subbed in. He high-fived Demichelis and heard his name over the stadium speakers. The home team got one past Bernd but Karimi lay waste to the small hope, they were up 4-1 but all Mats could think about was being here, debuting at the same time as Neven. It was funny how the world worked after so long, after countless birthday wishes and hopes, they were finally close enough to touch. 

They were mirrors, in the same position on opposite teams. 

"Sorry for the defeat." He came over on the pretense of a shirt swap. Neven had put it on right away with a small smile. His hair was longer than he remembered, imagined, dreamed of and sweaty, curling away from his neck. Mats gulped in air, suddenly aware of the little space between them. They were sixteen and this was the closest they'd been to each other since the last time they played against each other. 

"You didn't have anything to do with it, in fact you might've helped us with Amri's goal." His voice sounds different and Mats almost wants to kiss him if not for the teasing insult. 

"That was all Christian's fault." He shamelessly dumps all the blame on his defensive partner. Neven's smile curls a little bigger. He wants to touch him but knows he wouldn't stop himself even on the middle of the pitch. He can wait until they found some more privacy. He's waited this long, a little more wouldn't kill him hopefully. 

"We should go inside." He swings his arm and Mats practically trips over himself to get a head start. The world comes back into focus and they are the last of the stragglers to go back to the tunnel. 

He hugs him before leaving with the team, the slip of paper with Neven's number in his pocket, already in his phone, but he kept the scrap as proof of the meeting, of reality. They wouldn't know, wouldn't think of it as anything beyond kids being kids who were connected by a professional debut for their teams on the same day. Mats and Neven didn't carry the little pill box that signified they had soulmates. 

They were sixteen and had the whole world in front of them.

2009

"Mats," Neven kisses him, "Mats, we should get champagne." He's giddy enough without it, but if the others were coming over to celebrate the signing...they would have to get something to tide over their mooching teammates. 

"Ask Nuri to get some. I'm not moving until my boyfriend comes to bed." He lands spread-eagle on the mattress. The Dortmund contract would free him from Hermann's grasp, putting some space between them with his work in Munich and his son not at Bayern. For the first time in his life, Mats felt like his own person, not chafing under rules and terms his father set for him. 

He was also eighteen and could move in with Neven finally.

"Oh really?" Neven raises his eyebrow but doesn't stop shedding his training clothes. Mats didn't have any sort of comparison but intuitively he thought having sex with his soulmate was miraculous. It was better than anything he had heard of or experienced. Nothing came close to having Neven take him apart with the certainty he always had. 

He couldn't explain it besides his soul finding a home in Neven and vice versa. Their relationship was already something untouchable by other people but sex added a dimension to it, something indescribable and sacred to them and only them. 

Neven's mouth descends from his chest to his abs. 

"We're going to forget to call Nuri, aren't we?" He asks breathlessly. Neven's eyes spark like embers as they look up to him. "Probably." He pulls down his shorts. Mats forgets how to say his own name, much less use a phone.

2014

The pressure of being captain as the team is infinitely closer to being relegated makes his head pound sharply. The suppressants taste especially vile the mornings of a match-day. The walls feel like they are closing in on him and Jonas' wall decor doesn't help him feel better. Mats can't call the apartment his, doesn't possess it like he did with Neven's. He treated it like a permanent guest. He even left the main bedroom for Jonas. 

He couldn't sleep right anyway, and he didn't need a bed that big if it was just for him. 

Having people over was the only solace he could manage holding onto. It was a revolving door for Marco and Kevin. Mats wasn't actually sure they didn't have a key to the place with how often they were there and monitored his lack of beer and cereal in the kitchen. 

Marco was in fact buried under a mountain of blankets at the moment, balefully staring at his phone like it was going to do a magic trick and somehow bite his hand off. 

"You can't expect him to call every day to see how you are, especially when you don't tell him anything is wrong." Mats sits on the other end of the blankets, honestly not sure if he's managed to sit down on Marco's legs through all the pillows and padding. He extends the bowl of nuts and dried fruit to Marco, who on a normal day would scoff at the snack. The blonde took a handful. 

"I really shouldn't have to. Maybe he's too busy celebrating." Mats sighs.

"Don't say that. Don't bring your teams into your relationship, Marco, it's getting old." It was, the tension between Dortmund and Bayern seemed to increase with the split of Mario and Marco's partnership. Lewy had certainly added to the fire by going for free but most of them realized that's just how it worked and they had to pull up their own bootstraps in order to win. 

Of course, they were on a losing streak currently and Mats was terrible with advising Marco who would hear it and lose it through the other ear as soon as he got angry again. His injuries were the worst of it, the frustration was getting to him something fierce combined with Mario keeping his distance, it was a recipe for Mt. Reus to blow up.

"You're getting old." He spits back without venom, sounding like a child even though he wasn't much younger than Mats. 

"Speaking of two-way streets," Marco starts casually, in the tone that always signified he was going to bring up Neven. Mats could feel his shoulders contract, the muscles protesting in pain. Marco would much rather focus on the perpetual dilemma Mats faced than his own problems. 

"Don't," Mats warns him, the bowl in his lap suddenly unappetizing. 

"I was just going to say you've both got the two kids under your wings. Isn't that a little...weird? I mean, with how you guys turned out, I guess." Marco circumvents his usual colorful wording that included but wasn't limited to 'shitshow' and 'colossal fuck up' by the Dortmund 'dickbags'.

"Different case, different rules." It sounds a little hollow. He forces himself to eat another handful of trail mix. 

"I don't know how you do it. After everything last year, you shouldn't have to play mentor...they shouldn't _expect_ you to help Erik and Matze." Mats shrugs, barely lifting his shoulder. 

"Kloppo never asked me to, but I'm captain now and who else can tell them besides us? It's not a common enough thing to just ask any stranger on the street about. Besides, I don't think _they_ meant for us to help Erik and Matze. It's a warning story. The fairytale isn't real and here's proof. They didn't let Matze walk into this without stipulations and Erik is well-aware of what happened with Neven and me. He knows how nasty the rules can get." Mats thinks of Neven on the bench, of the way they have to be a careful distance away, limit their interactions on the field and away from it. He was surprised they let that last joint interview pass. 

"But that's not actually the story." Marco's voice cuts through his musings. 

"What?" The younger man looks at him with a strange face, lips twisted into a purse and eyebrows furrowed. Mats doesn't know what to make of it. 

"That's not the whole story, Mats. You did live happily, it _was_ real. I know most people believe soulmates are an inevitable disaster, but I've never subscribed to that crazy logic. It's dumb to make a self-fulfilling prophecy for the hundreds of people in your position. We're the ones fucking it up for you guys. Your father, the association, every person who doesn't know what it's like and has to butt into it like they are the end all be all verdict of it because they can wave around special cases and throw their weight around...making you believe it, is the real reason it doesn't work out. Who fucking cares what they think? You were happy. Stop beating yourself up for it." 

Mats is speechless. Marco pockets his phone and climbs out of his self-made cocoon. 

"Where are you going?" He manages to ask through the surprise of Marco's speech. Of course, Marco was one of his closest friends and he had never been shy about vocalizing his distaste for the bureaucracy of the matter but he had never put into words his opinion on Mat's self-destruction. 

"Talking about your shit helped me figure out what I should do. Thanks, see you later." Marco bee-lined out of the door with a wave.

Mats is left in the apartment with his thoughts.

2012

 _"Hey, don't do that, sister."_ He shouts after Natalija who meets them at the airport with a custom sign and starts whapping Neven with it as he gets through the crowd. Nat looks up impressed at the new tongue. Mats looks self-conscious for a moment before swinging the girl around in a bear hug. 

"When did you learn? When did you have time between winning the Cup and the League?" She laughs, pinching him to let her down. 

"It's a secret." Mats replies, passing her little test to see just how fluent the German was with their mother tongue. Mats and Neven share a conspiring grin to which Natalija just shakes her head and clicks her tongue. They go through to luggage claim and squabble about bringing the car over and who would be driving which Neven wins by checking the glovebox to see if he's still on the insurance of the car that now belonged to Nat.

Natalija corners Mats after dinner with the dishes in hand. She tells him he's helping her and that's that. 

"I've known my share of polyglots but you don't even think about it and as much faith as I have in my brother's ability to teach you, you can't have picked it up in the year and a half I haven't seen you. You're fluent, in a I've been doing this for my entire life way, not in a picked up a few classes way. What's the secret, Mats?" 

He scrubs at a particularly stubborn piece of food to take some time on how to word the response. It was something they had only fully grasped this year and secretly why Mats thought they were in such good shape at Dortmund. 

"You know we dream together and after a while, we learned we could manipulate it, so Neven taught me that way." The dish in her hands slips back into the sink and makes a racket. Neven's mom calls out to make sure everything is okay to which Mats replies but doesn't stop gauging Nat's facial ticks. 

"Nat?" He prompts and she blinks herself out of the stupor.

"You're lucid dreaming? Isn't that dangerous?" Her questions are low and quiet enough to not be heard in the other room. Neven's parents weren't bothered by the idea of soulmates as evidenced by Neven himself and his opinions that were completely radical to the European mindset. They had given him the options and informed him as best they could on the subject and whatever they didn't know, they directed him to someone who did. Living in America had also helped him with their laxer laws and ideas on the soulmate phenomenon. 

But Nat was of the don't ask and you won't be surprised school of thought. She didn't think it was any of her business on what went on with Neven and Mats nor did she think anybody else should interfere which had led to interesting meeting with Jonas earlier on as she found out more about Mats. 

"I don't think so. It hasn't messed with us yet. It's a little awkward with your parents. I learned with Neven's memories sometimes so saying something other than mom and dad is a little strange." Natalija smiles.

"They've been telling you to call them mom and dad for ages now, it doesn't matter what language it's in." 

2015

"Are you crazy?" Mats pulls him into a room. Neven looks insufferably composed for someone who _had_ to be losing his goddamn mind. 

"No," Neven's smiling and Mat's doesn't know what to do with the man. He's honestly lost with the up and down of the past few years. Cathy had told him one day it would land him in the hospital again. He forces himself to take slow, deep breaths. Neven waits like it's perfectly normal to be in a room together, like he doesn't care that his career is in the balance if they try this again.

The April wind howls outside. Mats still counts in his head. The mandated therapy after their break, after they had to start taking the suppressants hadn't totally vanished from his mind. 

"You're telling Matze to not take the suppressants, and then what decided to give it go for yourself?" Mats asks through his teeth, restarting his count, trying to center himself. Last night was a shock. Last night had been the first time he had dreamt in over two years, because Neven had the insane idea to not take his suppressants. Mats had woken up crying, because it still felt like home. He still yearned for that connection, still felt stupidly off-balance without him. Especially now, after getting a taste of it again, Mats couldn't go through it again. 

"No," Neven keeps smiling. Mats shakes.

_"You can't just stop taking them!" Kuba and Lukasz led the rest of them out of the dressing room. Mats was boiling mad. Neven was getting there, the air crackled between them with hurt and anger and tension._

_"It's making you sick, you idiot. Do you like sitting out on the bench being injured? Are you some sort of glutton for punishment? Are you punishing me? What do you want, Neven?" He shouts desperately, trembling with a deadly mix of emotions. Klopp and Watzke could come through the door and it wouldn't stop him from pouring himself out, venting everything into the air._

_"I would. I would sit out there every day for the rest of my life, not playing a single second if it made you better, if it fixed this." Mats makes a wounded noise, the air in his lungs feeling tight and punched out of him. Neven is standing strong, not letting him think of the possibility of running away from this. He chokes down another noise coming unbidden at the thought of seeing Neven wasting his potential, wasting everything he worked for to find some other ending for them._

_"You can't do this. We just got to a good place. Why are you throwing it all away?" His voice doesn't sound like him. It doesn't sound right. He had learned how to live without Neven constantly there, without Neven in his head, without Neven. He had picked up all the pieces and started to walk on his own again and now Neven was putting it all in jeopardy._

_"I'm not. You needed time, and I gave you that, but I never stopped wanting the only thing I wanted for 10, 16, 18, 24 years, every year since I understood who you were to me, Mats. You're my soulmate and I'm yours, and no one can take that away."_

The dream had felt so real, Mats had honestly thought it happened, that maybe his brain was more scrambled than he thought and he had finally recovered some neural pathway to dreaming and conjured the suppressed memory as some sort of terrible reward. 

"Why then?" He can't meet Neven's eyes. He won't fall into all the love and compassion and _I never stopped wanting_. Mats thought back on Marco and Erik and what _had_ happened to him? He thought he had lost it all after that day with his father and the board hearing. Instead, Mats had taken a loaded gun to his head and decided it was safer to keep the gun with him to remember the moment rather than throwing it away. 

"Because my contract is up soon and if we're separated, I don't want to keep going on without you here." Neven taps his temple. "Is it selfish? Probably, but if they sell us both, then we won't have to follow their rules. That's the worst case scenario." Mats swallowed hard. Their eyes met. Neven gets closer, edging into his space as if Mats were a wild animal waiting to attack.

"The next case would be renegotiating my contract, renegotiating everything. I'm tired of not fighting for this, Mats. They could still let me walk, but best case," He licks his lips. "Best case, would they let me stay with the team, with you, and let us..." He searches for the words. Mats is pulled into thoughts he hadn't entertained in so long, it makes his head spin. 

"Let us just be." Neven finishes with a shrug. Mats clenches his jaw, steels himself. He has to stop being so afraid.

He has to start living. He falls, lets himself collapse into Neven, another future is built from the supernova's ashes. His eyes burns as tears leak from them. Neven holds him with arms as sturdy as wood, grounded into the earth. 

"I love you. I will always love you."

Love fills the universe.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure I just poured out the fried egg that is my brain over my keyboard and words magically appeared on the screen. I'm sorry if it seems like it's missing scenes, I'm too emotionally exhausted to figure out if it all works out correctly


End file.
